His Missing Piece
by RoamingEyes
Summary: *** Combining events from the books and movies*** Hermione becomes a close confident to Malfoy after a violent attack on his mother. Loyalties are tested and their eventual romance is pulled in every direction, barely surviving The Great War. Can they get back to each other to figure out if the connection they forged during his tumultuous 6th year, is something worth fighting for?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter: 1 Noticing You

.

.

.

.

.

"…_I think I'd know if Harry Potter was in my house, now wouldn't I?" _

Hermione looked up in surprise, her brows furrowed in confusion at Mrs Weasley's sentence, echoing up from downstairs. Sitting by herself in her and Ginny's room, her charms textbook opened halfway in her lap, she debated with herself whether she had heard correctly. Harry? Here? It was the summer of her 6th year, and the Weasley's weren't expecting Harry for another few days at least. Biting her lip anxiously at the thought, she placed her book back onto her side table and opened the bedroom door, poking her head out.

"…_course not! I think I'd know if my best friend... my room." _

"_Ginny, honey, I highly doubt..." _

"… _his owl is here!"_

"_His what?!"_

Hermione's heart beat faster in her chest, as the sudden high-pitched squawk of a familiar owl pieced through the air. Within seconds, she raced out into the hallway and leaned heavily over the wooden railing.

"Was that an owl I heard?" she blurted out to the heads below.

"YES!"

At the sound of Harry's voice, Hermione turned and ran down the haphazardly built staircases of The Burrow, the hardwood creaking and moaning beneath her slipper clad feet. She hadn't seen Harry for months, and she was desperate to know how he had been coping since the death of his godfather, Sirius Black.

Hermione flung her arms around him in a hug, beaming at his presence.

"Harry!"

He laughed at her enthusiasm, adjusting his glasses, "Good to see you too."

"Why didn't you let us know you were coming?" Mrs Weasley cried in joy; Hermione stepped back as the older witch greeted him.

"I didn't know. Dumbledore." Harry shrugged, slightly embarrassed at the commotion he had caused.

"Oh! That man! But then what would we do without him I suppose! Are you hungry? Let me fix you something, come on, you look far too thin for my liking Harry, I hope that The Dursley's…."

Hermione and Ron shared a knowing glance, chuckling quietly to themselves in the corner as Harry was dragged into the kitchen against his will.

…

Half an hour later, Ron and Hermione were carrying Harry's things into the twin's room as he cleaned up in the bathroom after dinner.

"Blimey, that was a surprise. He seemed alrigh' aye, don't you think?" Ron said, as he dropped Harry's suitcase besides one of the beds.

Hermione gave him a small smile as she let Hedwig out from her cage. She was sat on the end of George's bed, closest to the window. Closing the latch in the bird's departure, the young witch signed, looking down at her hands in concern.

"I really don't know Ron. Honestly, he was really vague in his letters to me this summer. I was worried, but I didn't push anything from him." she sighed, "I guess he had a lot on his mind. Hopefully we'll find out soon enough." she shrugged, then looked at the door with a puzzled expression, "I wonder why he _really_ came early?"

"And what Dumbledore had to do with it." Ron added.

He read her mind perfectly, their eyes locking in a concerned gaze. Harry hadn't said much at dinner, as Mr Weasley had arrived not long after, and neither of them could get a word in between the two parents. All she knew was that Dumbledore needed him for something and he wanted him back here right away. She hadn't said anything to Ron, but while Harry was eating, she could see the dark shadows under his eyes and the way his responses were sometimes laboured when he spoke. The signs of lethargy and depression were still brimming beneath the surface, and she was shocked how obvious it still was. He had been so beside himself last year, she felt like her heart had broken for him several times over from his loss of Sirius. Greif made even the little things like eating a simple meal and socializing with his friends, physically and emotionally draining. She doubted the Dursley's were at all comforting over the matter.

Glancing up at Ron, she bit her lip nervously, fretting inwardly at how helpless she felt.

Things were different now.

She could feel it in the air like thick, heavy static.

The memory of them fighting against the Dark Lord and his followers at The Ministry of Magic the previous year, still gave her nightmares sometimes, and seeing Harry's behaviour was a reminder of that violent, traumatic night. The way evil had seeped so naturally from Voldemort's lanky and pale body when she saw him standing over Harry like a predator, like it was part of his DNA, made a shiver run down her spine. Harry had lost the only person who could have been a parent figure in his life _forever_. To say she was worried about him would be an understatement.

She quickly got rid of her anxious gaze when he returned a few moments later.

"How are you feeling?" she asked gently.

"Better. So, when did you get here?" Harry asked shortly, collapsing onto his bed.

"Couple of days ago," she replied, exchanging a nervous glance with Ron, "Though for a while there, I wasn't sure I _was_ coming."

Harry looked perplexedly between them both, leaning up on his below. "Why?"

Ron sighed, looking sheepish. "Mum sort of lost it last week. I think after everything that's happened; she was carrying on saying that we shouldn't go back to Hogwarts. She said it's too dangerous."

"Rubbish! Why would she say that?" Harry asked.

Hermione shifted awkwardly where she sat. "There's been rumours going around recently."

"What rumours?"

Ron came to sit at the end of Harry's bed, "Mum was talking about Dumbledore and The Ministry and Hogwarts, saying that he's getting too old and everyone is scared, and that no one knows what do."

Harry was stunned as he spoke, glancing confusedly between them both. "You're joking."

"Harry she's not alone!" Hermione scolded, getting up and pacing. "Even my parents who are muggles know something bad is happening."

Still taken aback by her words, Harry shook his head, rubbing his eyes behind his glasses. "Sorry, I guess I haven't been able to read the Daily Prophet as much as you two. I haven't done much but sleep this summer."

Hermione and Ron shared a worried look.

"Dad eventually convinced her, made her see sense." Ron added lightly, glancing absurdly at Hermione as she strode back and forth, "The Prophet seems to have some reliable sources working on it now. That's what Dad's been saying. People want the truth. Sales have even gone up. Who knows though, right?"

Hermione stopped pacing, leaning against the door and crossing her arms, "It feels different this time, doesn't it." she stated quietly, looking fearfully between them both. "Ever since Malfoys' dad got locked away, ever since Death Eaters have been attacking more and more, half of Diagon Ally has disappeared, and Hogwarts could be next!"

"Come on Hermione, this is Hogwarts we're talking about, what could be safer?" Harry argued.

Hermione shook her head and forced her lips into a thin line, looking out at the window's view opposite her. It had been a long day for them all, and she didn't want to push it. A heavy silence descended upon the room as they all collected their thoughts.

Harry rubbed his forehead and Hermione started to panic, wondering if it was his scar hurting again. When he asked Ron about the twins' new shop in Diagon Ally, she slowly let out the breath she had been holding.

"They're raking in the galleons there!" Ron replied in earnest. "I can't wait to see it when it's finished. We haven't been there yet because we need mum and dad there for security and all. But it sounds excellent!"

The interruption of Mrs Weasley opening the door made Hermione squeak as she stumbled forwards slightly.

"Sorry Hermione dear! Look, I know you all want to catch up, but I think it's best if you say goodnight soon, it's getting quite late."

"It's not mum, we're fine." Ron yawned.

Mrs Weasley gave him a disapproving look. "Go to bed soon please. Goodnight!"

…

The next few weeks went by without too much turbulence. After Mrs Weasley had told them all to go to bed, Harry had opened up about The Prophecy, and what Dumbledore had told him.

'_For neither can live while the other survives…'_

Undoubtedly Hermione was scared for him, but deep down it felt she had known all along it would have to come to that decision. However, it didn't make it any easier. Her best friend, once again, would have to put his life on the line in order for the entire magical world to survive. It was such a heavy burden to hold at such a young age. Of course, she and Ron had undeniably claimed their upmost support to him, and promised that no matter what, they would stick by him and fight. The amount of corruption and violence that had seeped into their lives the past few years, had sort of prepared her for the worst in a sense.

In the days that followed, Hermione had this sinking, scratching feeling that she ought to start preparing for something. She knew Harry wasn't ready to think about how he was going to face… _Voldemort_ again any time soon, but she wasn't nicknamed the brains behind their friendship for nothing. Whenever she found a window of opportunity to be on her own during the holidays, she spent the time looking up any information she could find about prophesy's in her old textbooks, just in case she came across something useful. She made notes before bed time and studied specific spells and anti-jinx's, researched protection wards and particulars around them in old school notes Mr Weasley had kept, purely from nostalgia over his time at Hogwarts, and even wrote down muggle remedies for healing cuts and burns her parents had taught her. She wanted to be prepared as much as humanly possible for when the three of them finally went to war.

Naturally, she been keeping up with the events since the battle at The Ministry, and the havoc that had followed in its wake. Their world was changing at an alarming rate, and she felt a responsibility to keep herself up to date with the inner workings of the political side of things, however ghastly their leaders of the Magical World might act towards the truth.

Alongside other arrests, the increase of muggle deaths, and Death Eaters still on the run, Lucius Malfoy, to her upmost relief had been one of the select few captured from The Ministry and sent to Azkaban, and Malfoy and his mother were seemingly left to the unkind pages of The Prophet. As Hermione read over the article from the hearing on night, she wondered vaguely if the events had changed the Slytherin at all. She was about to nod off when she glanced more thoroughly over the story, noticing that neither he nor his mother had made statements to the press, which Hermione found quite odd. It wasn't like Malfoy to refuse a chance at being in front of the spotlight, whatever the case may be. Not even to defend his father whom he probably still thought as innocent.

As she stared at the moving picture of them both, hurrying from the court room, she had gazed at the young wizard's face for a bit longer than usual, feeling pity for them both, wondering if they'd ever see the light. Lifting the page closer to her eyes, it felt like Malfoy's expression was rather haunted as he fled away from the cameras. His steely grey eyes uncharacteristically heavy with emotion. An expression she would never have associated him with at all.

…

"I don't know how Fred and George are doing it?" Hermine found herself saying in despair, a few days later. "Half the Ally is closed down."

"Fred reckons people need a laugh these days. I've never seen it so deserted though." Ron commented, looking warily around.

Hermione crossed her arms; the early evening breeze had a slight chill to it as they walked aimlessly through the remains of Diagon Ally. Leaves and burnt paper were scattered along the foot paths around them as they walked by burnt shop after burnt shop.

"Oh no!" she exclaimed, stopping in her tracks, the two boys in front of her turning around as she spoke. "Everyone got their wands from Olivanders."

She turned and walked slowly into the empty shell of a store, Harry and Ron close behind her. The entire building smelled like smoke and burnt rubber, its windows and walls were covered in thick black muck from the fire, and the whole place was filled with ash and decaying dark wood. Posters were melted from the heat, dangling off the walls, and it looked like someone had set off a bomb in the middle of the roof. Seeing it in such a desolate and abandoned state felt like a part of her childhood had been destroyed.

"_Blimey_," she heard Ron say quietly.

The three of them walked uncertainly through its remains for a while in comfortable silence, unsure of what they would discover. Hermione delicately touched a half-burnt wand, twisting it between her fingers. It was among a pile of others in the same condition, scattered among various piles of things next to what used to be the front desk.

"I wonder what's going to happen to all of this. Do you think they're going to repair it eventually?" Hermione asked.

Harry and Ron looked at one another before replying.

"Maybe."

"Dunno."

She sighed heavily, placing the wand back onto the pile. "It's just so sad!" she cried, wiping her palms on her jeans.

"Harry…"

Hermione looked up at Ron's tone, he was staring out into the street with narrowed eyes.

"What is it Ron?" she asked, suddenly feeling anxious as she followed his gaze.

"Is it just me, or does Malfoy and mummy look like two people who don't want to be followed." he remarked darkly.

The trio ducked down behind a half-broken glass window and stared at their childhood enemy and his mother. The two walked quickly into a side street, their heads down and strides purposeful as they disappeared around a corner.

Hermione swallowed hard. The last time she had seen a Malfoy in the flesh, was at The Ministry of Magic last year when Sirius had died.

"They're heading to Knockturn Ally. Come on." Harry said, quickly.

Following his lead without a word, the three friends walked briskly into the dark narrow streets. Flickers of blonde hair rounded the corners in front of them as they stayed carefully behind. They passed a man murmuring unintelligible nothings to himself, as he leaned heavily against a brick wall, searching for answers he wouldn't find. A burly looking man dragged a group of barking dogs into a side street as they passed a line of closed down stores, their howls echoing into the night.

"What do you think they're doing?" Hermione asked worriedly, spontaneous decisions like this never usually ended well.

Harry replied stonily, "Nothing good, that's for sure."

They followed the pair for another few minutes, hanging back behind corners just in case they were seen. After following a long brick pathway towards the depths of the ally, they saw the two lone figures outside Borgin and Burkes, the faint yellow glow of the shop illuminating their presence.

Peering out from behind a brick wall, concealed safely in the shadows, Hermione saw Malfoy glance around suspiciously for a moment before he brushed a hand through his white blonde hair and entered the shop after his mother. Seeing him this close for the first time in what felt like years, Hermione couldn't help but notice how tall he had become. His shoulders were much broader and filled out, and he had a stronger, more authoritative energy about him, compared to the scrawny, pale faced little boy she had associated him with all these years. His steely grey eyes conveyed such emotion in them, just like she had seen in the prophet, it was hard to look away. All of a sudden, a dangerous and apprehensive feeling washed over in that moment, seeing him in such a way. Like she was standing on the very edge of a cliff with her eyes closed, seconds away from falling into the depths below.

"I think I saw… in there, Harry." Ron murmured uncertainly.

Hermione shook her head a little, Ron's voice breaking her out of her thoughts, still trying to ignore the sudden sinking sensation in her stomach.

"We need to get higher." Harry suggested, pointing to the roof.

Hermione looked between them, uncertain.

"I'm not sure if that's safe Harry!"

"We'll be fine, come on."

Hermione glared at him, more so out of worry than real annoyance. "Well if I break my ankle, I swear to Merl-!"

"We'll never hear the end of it." Ron remarked, already scaling his way up the adjacent building.

She stared annoyingly at the back of his head, rolling her eyes as she followed him up the brick wall.

Night had fallen, and the only light they had was coming from the three windows at the back of Borgins. They huddled down close to one another, gripping the tiled roof.

"Can you see anything?" Harry whispered.

"Kind of," Ron muttered.

Hermione frowned, inching up closer to the edge of the roof. The three of them watched the scene play out silently for a few moments, not sure what they were looking for but certain they would find something.

"Him and his mother are talking to Borgin, there's someone else in there as well." Ron commented.

"Who?" Harry asked.

Hermione was about to answer but her breath caught in her throat like a hard lump. She felt her hands start to tremble and she opened her mouth in shock, but nothing came out.

Harry inched up to see what she was looking at, but immediately ducked down afterwards, his two friends following suit.

"_Fenrir Greyback." _Harry said slowly, he looked sick to his stomach.

"He must be helping him." Hermione said breathlessly, having found her voice. "But why would Malfoy need a Werewolf-"

"Blimey, he's a scary looking-" Ron started.

"Ronald get back down he'll see you!" Hermione snapped.

The three sat there awkwardly, the tiles beneath them losing their grip from the unexpected weight. Hermione knew they didn't have much longer. Whatever they were meant to find, they needed to find it now.

"What do you think he's doing here?" Hermione asked in a rush.

Harry frowned, deep in thought. "Whatever he wants from Borgin, it must be important if he needs protection or assistance like this from someone like Greyback. Something dark and illegal no doubt."

"Something expensive maybe. Greyback has been working for Malfoy's father for ages, so I think they trust him." Hermione replied.

"How do you know that?" Ron asked.

"It's common knowledge who the Malfoy's keep for company Ron, honestly!"

The red head sunk down lower on the roof.

"Do you think it's got something to do with his father? A family air loom riddled with dark magic or something?" she asked fretfully.

"I don't know, maybe." Harry mused darkly.

Hermione sighed, weighing up her options. "Alright, let me look for a bit."

Inching up closer to the windows again as Harry and Ron stayed out of sight, Hermione narrowed her eyes and followed Malfoy as he walked around the store. His mother was talking to Borgin in a stern, cold manner and the shop owner looked like he was shaking in his boots. Malfoy seamed focused as he looked at a tall mirrored cabinet. He touched the outside gingerly as if it might break. Checking the corners, handles and the base of the piece. Admiring it from a far, his gaze was almost impenetrable as he seemed to take a moment to just stare at it. Confirming what he needed to, he turned back to his mother and said something to Borgin, who seemed to disagree with him. Hermione bit her lip as his mother hit the shop owner over the head with her handbag from his reply. It was such a typical aristocratic thing to do, it was almost comical. She was about to turn away again, when she saw something that made her feel like a bucket of ice-cold water had been dumped over her head. Malfoy had grabbed Borgin by the collar of his shirt, snapping at Greyback who had risen from behind him, before he stood back and lifted up the sleave of his jacket on his left arm.

If Borgins reaction was anything to go buy, Hermione had a feeling she knew exactly how he felt in that moment.

Ron and Harry must have sensed her sudden tension, as she felt them shuffle beside her to ease back up closer to the window.

"No stop!"

Hermione pushed out an arm, worried that Harry would be seen, but he jerked back in surprise at her sudden movement and misplaced his footing. Looking down at him in horror, she felt him seize a hold of her arm to try and keep his balance, feeling her weight start to tumble to one side Hermione squeaked in surprise as she felt herself falling. She felt Ron reach out behind her, but his arm just added to the weight. Harry kept falling backwards, and knowing there was nothing she could do, she felt the three of them tumble over the top of one another and land hard on the ground in a pile of tangled limbs and sore heads.

Panting, and her back aching from the fall, Hermione quickly lifted her arm up to shield herself from the cracked tiles and bricks that fell down on top of them all, scattering loudly onto the cold cement beneath them.

"Thanks guys." Harry groaned, rolling off the top her.

Hermione blinked the stars from her eyes, getting up onto shaky legs. "You scared me! I told you it wasn't safe!"

Ron rubbed his face in agitation, dust covering his shirt. "I think everyone from here to The Three Broomsticks heard tha."

"Then I suggest we make a run for it as I know for a fact that werewolves are _quite _good at hearing!" Hermione whispered in a panic, brushing dirt off her jeans.

The chime of the front door opening was warning enough that someone had heard their fall from grace, and the three of them shot out from behind the building and ran.

Hermione raced behind Harry and Ron as they made their escape, but a commotion behind them made her whip her head around in response, her right hand going towards her wand.

What she saw when she looked back into the darkness, happened like it was in slow motion.

Malfoy it looked like, had rushed out to the front of Borgins, wand in hand and peering frantically in her direction. Greyback stayed close behind him, pacing around. Malfoy's sleeve was still scrunched up like it had been earlier, and the dark material was a stark contrast to his pale white skin. In hindsight, it was a simple mistake, but one that would instantly put into motion a series of consequences, which would intertwine their futures forever. The lower half of his forearm was revealed to her for a split second as she glanced back, showing a long and twisted snake tattoo on the surface of forearm, its neck curved in the strike position.

She had seen that image everywhere…on the arm of his father, in the pages of the Daily Prophet, in wanted posters, notice boards, even in some of her textbooks.

_The Dark Mark._

The image was burned into her memory as she quickly looked away and ran out of sight.

.

.

.

.

.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Previous chapter has been updated if people following weren't aware. Sorry for the delay! Life has gotten so hectic. After this month though updates will be more regular. This one has some Draco POV and interaction between our leads! Also links to photos are on my profile of how I saw Hermione and Draco in this chapter. Would love to know what you guys think and where you think its going? Anyways, disclaimer: JKR owns everything in the world, not me. **

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Chapter: 2: first words

.

.

.

The weeks following their return from Diagon Ally, Hermione spent most of the time feeling like an absolute fraud. She was stunned to silence after they had arrived back to The Burrow, which was truly saying something. How she was able to force herself to pretend that she hadn't just seen a student aged wizard with The Dark Mark on his arm, was a testament to the outright disbelief she was feeling. She had been in worse, more violent situations, yes, but this one seemed to leave her more hollow and afraid more than anything else. All she was left with was her conflicting emotions and worrisome thoughts during the rest of the summer. It also didn't help that Harry's curiosity over what Malfoy had been doing that night at Borgins, had completely skyrocketed into obsession, and neither she nor Ron could convince him otherwise.

She lost count the amount of times she re-lived the moment. Looking back, and seeing white blonde hair, the glowing tip of a wand, the face of her enemy staring straight at her, _The Mark_.

It was like she was stuck in the deep dark pits of denial, but at the same time, completely suffocated by the truth. Hermione wanted desperately to protect her friends and those she held close; but she feared telling them about Malfoy would be a completely reckless decision to make, especially since she was still struggling with the situation herself. She hated feeling so uncertain, in a limbo of sorts about the whole situation and just the general feeling of being stuck. Her Gryffindor courage was letting her down, and she knew she needed to make some sort of choice to give herself direction and closure. There was no solution to be had simply wallowing in fear.

It was just Malfoy, after all, right? Regardless of those implications or what lay ahead, she forced herself to snap out of the slump and got to work.

It took a few days of meticulous justification to come to the decision, pretending that she was studying for the up coming year so that she could be left alone for a while, undetected. But ultimately, Hermione realised that until she had thoroughly investigated further about whether Malfoy really was._.._ _a _Death Eater, until she got physical proof or some sort of rock solid evidence of what she saw, her lips were sealed. She knew if she was going to confide in anyone, it had to be Dumbledore, and she wanted to be one hundred percent certain about everything that had transpired that night until she did.

After the initial shock of the entire ordeal had finally worn off, she would still spend hours just lying there in the dark, riddled with anxiety, wondering desperately if maybe she had just imagined the entire thing.

Could it really be? Was Malfoy really a _Death Eater_? Was it even legal to be given the _Dark Mark_ at sixteen? Honestly, did his parents have any morals whatsoever?

When she took her emotions out of the equation however, and thought about it logically, it really did make sense. As much as it troubled her to admit it, Hermione knew Malfoy would always be his father's son and follow in the man's footsteps. To be in denial about the possibility of him taking the mark, no matter how young, would be incredibly naive of her, especially with how rapidly their world was changing these days. She couldn't lie to herself even if she tried. In some weird way it felt like she was _meant _to see it. She _was_ the most level-headed compared to Ron and Harry, she justified bitterly. If either of them had been in her position, who knows what sort of situation they would be in right now. Knowing how intertwined these happenstance-like situations occurred so regularly throughout their lives, she wasn't surprised, but it was definitely not ideal.

With a heavy, troubled sigh, Hermione rolled over onto her side for the fourth time that night, and forced herself to sleep, knowing she needed to come up with a plan, fast. Her instincts had never led her wrong before, and the odd gnawing feeling in the pit of her gut returned at the thought, the exact same one she had felt when she had watched Malfoy outside of Borgins that night. It felt like there was something in the air about it all, telling her that this was significant to the cause, significant to all of them. She just hadn't figured it out yet.

…

_One week earlier…_

_._

_._

_._

It was well past midnight when his mother swung open his door in a state of panic. Draco jerked at the noise, and spun around in surprise, scowling at whoever had the nerve to invade his privacy at such a time. He was going over his list of things to give to one of the maids for his Hogwarts school supplies. A completely mundane and boring task to take part in, but he hadn't been able to sleep for some time, and he needed to do _something_.

Narcissa, dressed in only her night clothes, her hair slung messily around her shoulders, searched for him frantically in the darkness, murmuring unintelligible nothings to herself.

Draco stood from his desk chair in alarm, looking her over from head to toe, feeling incredibly unnerved at her peculiar behaviour.

"Mother? What's wrong?"

Narcissa's face scrunched up in agony when her eyes finally landed on him, heaving painful sobs as she rushed to his side. Despite her petite frame, when she grasped a hold of his arms, they felt strong enough to leave bruises. Draco tried to jerk away from her touch, her emotion too much for him take, but she just held on tighter.

"Mother, you're hurt-"

"DON'T DO IT! DON'T DO IT!" she screamed into his face.

His mind going blank with fear, Draco shoved her away in one swift movement, stumbling backwards against his bed from the force. Stunned by her sudden outburst, he fumbled desperately to grab a hold of his wand from his side table, leaving Narcissa to fall into a crumpled heap on his bedroom floor.

For a few long moments, he simply stood there, staring at her.

Lifting his wand, Draco approached her slowly, steadying his breathing as he spoke as calmly as he could. "Mother, what's happened? Is it Father?"

Narcissa said nothing, just crying harder into the carpet.

Draco's mind whirled with possibilities as to what could have happened, but none of them stopped long enough in his mind for him to properly articulate, a testimate to the panic he felt welling up inside him.

"Mother!" he pressed, he rubbed his face in agitation, feeling utterly helpless as she continued to crumble to pieces in front of him.

Taking a deep breath to compose himself, he bent down towards her on his knees. Rubbing a shaking hand over her damp forehead, he summoned as much patience as he could as he approached her again.

"Mother, what's wrong?" he stammered nervously, feeling incredibly vulnerable in this moment, "I just don't know what's happening I-."

"Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it, don't do it," was all she said.

Draco grimaced, "Mother, please." he begged quietly.

Narcissa had stopped her incessant murmurings, but still carried on crying, and Draco felt a tight, clenching feeling in the middle part of his chest at the sight of his mother in such a way. After a few hiccups and laboured breaths, eventually, Narcissa calmed herself enough to sit up against him. He placed a comforting arm around her shoulders for support, shocked at how frail she felt in his embrace. She looked at him through her glassy tear-filled eyes as she spoke, her expression pained, as if she were saying goodbye.

"_The Dark Lord_ wants you to do something Draco," she stated gravely, "But I want you to say _no_. I want you playing no part in this task, do you understand?"

It was like his heart had found its way up into his throat, and refused to budge. Draco swallowed hard at the feeling, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. He felt his entire body start to shake, but all he could do was nod once in reply and try his best to look as impassive as he could. This was the moment his father had been preparing him all his life for. When he would be eventually be called to serve. Yet here his mother was, completely hysterical over the fact...

"Draco?" Narcissa croaked, after a few moments.

This was not what he had imagined this moment to feel like at all. Something was wrong, this whole thing felt off.

Slowly putting the pieces together, it was obvious his mother had just been told. Though by whom, he didn't know. Definitely not the man himself. Draco wondered if his father knew...

"Draco?"

"What does he want me to do?" he asked eventually, finding his voice.

Narcissa sighed, a fresh onslaught of tears flowing down her pale cheeks. She suddenly looked like she had aged ten years.

"I can't bear to say it. I must talk to Snape first thing tomorrow, he has to help, he'll make sure-"

"Snape knows?!" Draco's face lit up, shocked.

"Yes- but you are not to speak with him until I do!"

"That isn't fair mother, I should-"

Narcissa grabbed a hold of his face, forcing him closer to her. "You must not speak of this until I return tomorrow Draco, _no one_ must know. Do not ask the elves where I am, or when I am coming back, and do not tell your friends. _Everything_ has changed. It is not like we thought, and you _must_ trust me. Speak of this and you will not live until… _until_..." she sobbed, unable to finish. "Please, please, promise me you will keep this to yourself until you see me next."

Draco groaned, no less frustrated by her words than he was before, and shoved her hands from his face. The distain and humiliation washed over him in waves as he crawled away from her touch, looking at her but seeing nothing he recognised. He refused to accept that in order to survive, he needed to abandon his allegiance to _The Dark Lord_.

It was like everything he had ever known flashed before he eyes, yet none of it made sense.

_This_ was not happening.

. .

"You've always told me that _one day_, I'd be chosen." he stated darkly, struggling to comprehend, "_Now_ you're telling me to refuse his offer? Are you out of your mind, mother? He'll _kill us_ if I refuse!"

Narcissa made a choked sound from the back of her throat, grabbing desperately at the carpet. "You have been chosen to _die _Draco! You have no idea! You're just a boy!"

"If _Voldemor_t…" his mother sobs grew louder at the name, "… wants me to serve him, I _will_ mother, I have no choice!"

"Do _not _SAY IT!"

Narcissa raised her hand and slapped him across the face, and Draco was ashamed to hear a pitiful cry escape his lips, placing a hand over his cheek.

"You'll know in good time what's best for you!" Narcissa snapped viciously, getting up on shaky legs, "If you tell anyone about this, you have betrayed me and your father. Do as I say, and you will live. _Nothing_, until I return." she warned, "Do you understand?"

Draco sat silently, completely stunned at the witch before him. He felt his cheek burn form the blow as he scowled murderously at the ground. He had been hit by his father more times than he could count, but his mother had never once laid her hands on him. It was something he could always rely on her for. Balance, affection, love…Now, he just felt cold. It felt like his mind had been pulled apart, chewed on, and spat back out.

"Draco?"

He looked up at her sullenly from where he sat, his white blonde hair in disarray, it was like he was seeing right through her.

"Fine." he murmured bitterly, looking away from her gaze.

He didn't mean it, it was purely just to humour her in this moment, since she was acting like a complete sodding lunatic. He'd get to the bottom of all this in due time.

Narcissa sighed and said nothing as she walked slowly out the door.

.

.

.

.

_Two weeks later…_

Sitting in the window seat of their compartment, Hermione turned the page in her new copy of _Advanced Runes Translation_, feigning mock concentration as Harry wondered out loud, yet again, about Malfoy.

"… _was Malfoy doing that night?_ And what was with that weird looking cabinet? Don't you guys see? Maybe it was part of some weird initiation?"

Hermione glanced up distractedly and turned another page, saying nothing and frowning as she continued to read. The only thing breaking the tension between the three friends was the commotion of a full packed train of students, their high-pitched voices and hurried footsteps echoing around their compartment as they talked. They would all be disembarking at Hogsmeade station in about an hour, and it was the first time since …well, _ever_, that Hermione was slightly dreading their return to Hogwarts. After everything that had happened over the past year, the fresh start she was hoping for had been crushed since their trip to Diagon Ally, and even though Hermione was always someone full of optimism, even in the worst of times, now there was an eerie chill in her bones every time she thought about their futures and what now lay ahead. All of a sudden there was a weight on her shoulders that wouldn't budge. And it was because of Draco Malfoy of all people. Malfoy's future and the choices he now made, would in turn effect theirs. It was an odd realisation that did not sit well with her. There was now an immeasurable fear about their 6th year ahead which was crashing into her from all sides. Mostly because she wasn't able to share her concerns with her two best friends, _yet_. However, if it was all as inevitable as it seemed, from what she saw with her own two eyes, they'd all be fighting for the cause together again soon enough. She prayed night and day that their world would be able to handle the outcome from all of this, and in the meantime, she would do all she could to soften the blow.

"What do you guys think?" Harry asked.

In the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Ron shrug in reply, more so concerned with the pile of food he had accumulated in his lap from the food trolly that had just come past.

"You still thinking about that mate?" her friend remarked bemusedly; biting into a scone. "It was weird I guess, but Malfoy is a bit _weird_, ya know?"

Harry stared at Ron vaguely for a moment and Hermione bit back a smile.

"Well, yeah. What about you Hermione? Didn't you say there was something weird happening right before-"

"I already told you, I'm not sure _what_ I saw." she explained shortly.

"But you _did _see something, right?"

Hermione sighed. It was the third time he had asked that question, so she grudgingly relented.

"I already agreed it was fishy Harry, but we've already talked about so many explanations as to what it could have meant. I was mostly just scared because of…" she lowered her voice, "…_Greyback__,_ but I couldn't make out what he was doing because it was so dark. It was nothing. Lets just forget it happened."

"What about the argument with him and Malfoy? What did Malfoy say to him? And why was he there in the first place?"

"I told you, _I don't know_."

Harry groaned in reply, shoving his hands through his messy brown hair in frustration. "Don't you guys see; Malfoy's father is in Azkaban! He's angry and he's up to something and I think we need to take it seriously."

Hermione and Ron both simply stared at him, the carriage doors rattling loudly beside them in the silence that followed.

"Greyback getting angry like that, it probably explains why he needs protection out in public." Harry continued in earnest, "But I think he's hiding something and…" he suddenly stopped, staring blankly at a spot on the wall behind them.

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked in surprise, she recongnised that gaze…

Ron paused mid bite. "Is it your scar again?"

Harry blinked a few times and then looked determinedly between them. Hermione and Ron shared a worrying glance.

"He's a _Death Eater_," he stated calmly, "Malfoy's a sodding _Death Eater_."

Ron laughed, then choked on the biscuit he was eating, and Hermione just sat there with her mouth wide open in shock.

"Harry…" she started breathlessly. "I think you're just-"

"You're mad!" Ron exclaimed, swallowing hard, "At sixteen? Really? Why would _You-Know-Who_ recruit someone that young, what could they do?"

"It makes total sense; I don't know why I didn't pick up on it before!" Harry said, getting up from his seat.

"This seems really unlikely Harry." Hermione warned, "I really don't think-"

"Don't you think Malfoy would want revenge?" he challenged, rummaging around in his backpack for something.

"Well yes, but what youre thinking is borderline insane!" Hermione argued as she stood, her insides twisting nervously. "I think you're just jumping to conclusions Harry, honestly. You need to calm down."

"Well if you both don't believe me; I'll figure it out for myself." He looked at them once more before he left. "I need some air."

Tucking something under his arm, the troubled wizard exited the compartment, leaving his friends completely shaken in his haste.

"Blimey, frazzled in ne?" Ron remarked, stuffing a chocolate frog in his mouth.

Hermione sighed, and sat back down slowly in her seat, feeling defeated. "He's completely in over his head about it all, I just wish I could help somehow."

Unbeknownst to Ron, her sentence held a double meaning, not realising the troubled look that had fallen upon her face. As Ron kept eating, she realised dejectedly that Harry had put the pieces together faster than she had anticipated, and now it felt like every second that ticked by, she was losing precious time. Her mind started whirring in overdrive with plans as she felt the panic rise in her throat again at the thought of what she had seen. And what was now running through Harry's mind about Malfoy as well...

It was was happening all too quickly, too _fast_, too _soon_.

She closed her eyes to calm herself.

…_blonde hair, a tattoo on pale white skin…grey eyes…._

"I think I'll get some air as well." she said in a rush, exiting from the carriage just as quickly as Harry had.

.

.

…

Draco was reading _The Daily Prophet_ of all things, bored out of his sodding mind when the sound of a small _"pop!"_ then a loud _"thud._" echoed in the compartment around him.

Shrieks of surprise and the sound of chaos suddenly erupted, as the entire Slytherin carriage was instantly submerged into total darkness.

Grabbing his wand, Draco shoved the paper from his lap and was up on his feet within seconds, striding angrily towards the commotion.

"Fellas? What was that!?"

The blonde looked around in a panic and waved a frustrated hand through the black sparkling mist, watching closely as his fellow housemates retreated to the safety of their seats. He couldn't see anyone he didn't recognise, assuming that the culprits had already made their escape. He sneered at the thought. The fact that someone had the nerve to take advantage of his house like this made his blood boil.

_Bloody twats. _

"Crab, Goyle!" Draco barked. "Go out into other carriages and find the little bastards who did this, it was probably a Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. Go!" he ordered.

The two buffoons he called his friends, got up sloppily in confusion, leaving the pile of treats they were gorging on at their table and exiting into the walkway of the train.

In the corner of his eye, Draco thought saw a shadow move quickly to his right, but was interrupted by the winey, high pitched voice of Pansy Parkinson before he could give it a second thought.

"It was _nothing _Draco, come sit back down. We'll be at Hogwarts soon." she purred.

He scoffed at the thought, crossing his arms as he stood beside her. "Hogwarts. What a pathetic excuse for a school. I think I'd chuck myself of the Astronomy tower if I knew I had to continue for another _two years_."

Pansy frowned, "What's that supposed to mea-?"

"It was probably a couple of first years." Blaise Zambini drawled from beside her, cutting her off on purpose, Draco noticed with relief. "They'll be regretting it soon enough."

The Syltherian prince nodded towards his friend, ignoring Pansy's outstretched hand as he walked away without a word, retreating to the back of the carriage. He eyed the ceiling and floor cautiously as he slid back to his seat, scrunching up his newspaper he had left discarded on the ground. He had hidden himself in a deserted booth at the back of the compartment, instructing Crab and Goyle not to let anyone near him. A strange request for some, but these were strange times. After his mother had gone to visit Snape, they realised there was no getting out of ..._The Task_, as it would be referred to. Malfoy wasn't surprised, but his mother had begged him to get himself a private train for the journey to Hogwarts this year, they could afford it after all. However Draco knew it would just lead to more suspicions, more questions, more eyes him than usual. The attention on the Malfoy family had been bad enough when his father had been sent to Azgaban the previous year...and now with more rumors about them crossing over to the dark side to seek revenge or some crap like that, _Merlin_, it really had just begun, he thought, pinching the bridge of his nose.

If they only knew.

When he wasn't having nightmares about a giant fucking snake about to eat him and his family, then he was pretty much ok, he thought bitterly.

Honestly, he was exhausted. He couldn't sleep. He felt weak almost all of the time he was awake, to the point where the simple act of rest had begun to be his only solace from this cruel world. After everything that had been forced upon him over the summer, it was no surprise that Draco had turned into something like a shadow of his former self, and he was struggling to come to terms with the change.

Ah yes.

_Change. _

He needed guidance, but had no one left to guide him. There was Snape, he supposed, who made that sacred oath to protect him, but Draco knew he would just try to save his own skin in the end. No one knew what was going on inside his head, and what _Voldemort _had asked him to do, and it would have to stay like that for remainder of his year at Hogwarts in order to survive. He couldn't trust a soul. At times, when he was struggling to make sense of it all, it felt like he had one foot in in the old world, the old Draco, and one in the new one. He wanted to move forward but that only lead to_ The Task_. Then, if he backed away from it, decided against it all, he felt like coward, someone who was putting his family in jeopardy for the sake of being selfish so he could just save himself. He had no clue which path would secure any chance he had for decent future... If there was even going to be a decent future left for anyone in the magical world after what he would do this year. The troubled wizard gazed down at his left sleeve at the thought. The dark black suit he was wearing covering him from head to toe. He had been initiated quickly with no remorse for the pain. Branded with the darkest magic known to man. It was all over in a few excruciating seconds, but it was one of the most traumatic memories that would stay with him for the rest of his life. Simply thinking about it now, how blindingly violent the process had been, made his hands twitch. Locking eyes with a wizard that evil, that detached, that heavy with power and insanity, was something that had made his blood turn cold. The moment he had looked into those pale green, snake like eyes, would wake him in the middle of the night and haunted him throughout the day. No wonder his mother was completely beside herself when she found out what he had been asked to do. Her reaction had still stung his pride for the rest of the holidays, but for now, he had to admit, he didn't blame her for being as scared as she was. Regardless of the task, or where Lucius was, Draco knew that he and his mother needed to make a choice, fast. They needed to think differently. This war wasn't going to end well for them, and if they wanted to make it out alive, they needed to-

"Astronomy Tower, eh?" Blaise said from behind him, jerking him out of his thoughts.

Draco recovered, and scoffed in agreement, brushing a hand nervously through his white blonde hair. "Yeah. Quick and easy, I suppose." he murmured bitterly, as his fellow Slytherin sat down in the seat across.

The two childhood friends stared at each other for a few moments, an awkward silence passing before they finally spoke.

"So," Blaise started, uncertainly.

Malfoy frowned. "...So?"

"What the hell is going on with you, Draco?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

Blaise leaned forward. "You look like a total mess."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Firstly, I would never look like a mess. Secondly. I'm fine, what are you on about?"

Blaise smiled, his signature dimples showing. "Not buying it, mate."

"Can't a man enjoy the vast scenery of the countryside in peace?" Malfoy drawled sarcastically, gesturing lazily to the window.

Blaise shook his head, clasping his hands together on the table between them. "I'll get straight to it then, since you won't. What was with your letter, over the holidays? You're acting like none of that happened? Why?"

Draco stared stonily out the window, his answer cold and irritable. "What letter, Blaise?"

"You sounded pretty scared, if I'm honest."

Draco shrugged, refusing to meet his eyes. "Maybe I was."

"Scared of what? And what's with all this then? Drowning yourself in your sorrows, acting like a loner?"

"Just drop it."

"I was actually concerned, and I would like an explanation. It's not every day your best friend is begging for help, fearing their life. What the hell happened?"

"I said _drop it_!" Draco snapped, then sighed and rubbed his temples, cracks showing in his façade. "Sorry…I just…sorry."

He remembered the exact moment when he had written that stupid note. It had been the day after his mother had alerted him of the task. He tried to leave his room the following morning, only to realise that she had locked him inside like a prisoner. Obviously not trusting he wouldn't leave before she returned from visiting Snape. He had something which felt like a panic attack. This out of body experience where all he wanted to do was scream but his body wasn't letting him, his hands shaking as he put his quill to paper. It felt like he was losing his mind. Completely overwhelmed, he had wrote to Blaise. He needed to talk to someone and refused to settle for the stupid elves. Honestly, what was a man to do?

"False alarm, friend. It was nothing." Draco said dismissively, still lost in his memory.

Blaise sat back and stared at him again, clicking his tongue in thought. His gaze was sceptical as Draco kept his composure as nonchalant as possible, brushing some invisible lint off his black suit as he talked.

"Blaise, I know I'm the more attractive one, but I hope you're not going to sit there and stare at me until we get to Hogsmeade. It's rather uncomfortable, and I don't like it."

Blaise lifted his hands in surrender, rolling his eyes. "You're such a tosser. I'm just trying to help."

Draco simply shrugged, inspecting his nails in an aristocratic way. "Help away. I don't care."

His friend sighed. "Fine, I tried. Come talk to me when you've finished acting like a sad little girl. _Bloody hell_…"

There wasn't a lot of malice in his response, but Draco was grateful he had taken the not so subtle hint he wanted to be left alone.

As he watched Blaise walk away and return to the others, suddenly it took everything in him not to reach out and confess every thought, every desperate feeling. The details of _The Task_, and the burdens of this year. All of it was on the tip of his tongue, struggling to break free. It shocked him to the core how much it hurt to ignore those responses. How strongly he could feel the physical and emotional ache inside him that he had a squash in order to save face. Draco gripped the edge of the table in front of him to steady his breathing, his knuckles going white.

He wasn't exactly sure when he had become so unhinged to his emotions, but now they were there, as easy as breathing, he couldn't hide from them anymore, it seamed.

Draco took a long breath to calm himself, but he could tell it was the beginnings of another attack. Feeling paranoid, he got up quickly as the feeling in his chest tightened, and exited at the back of the carriage. He needed some air and something to eat.

It was a close call with Blaise just now.

Way too close.

…

After wandering aimlessly around the compartments for far too long, lost in his thoughts, the setting sun in the distance now turned into night, he finally found the food trolley. The troubled wizard grabbed a sandwich and poured himself a cup of tea, leaning heavily against the compartment door beside him as he inhaled his pathetic excuse of a meal with gusto.

Draco threw the paper cup into the bin once he was done, turning towards the Slytherin part of the train again, when he ran straight into another body and a head of curls.

"Jeez-"

…

Hermione stared and stared and stared.

Malfoy, apparently, who was also just as shocked as she was, did the same.

Of all the people she were to find in search of Harry...

Bracing herself on the corridor's walls with her hands, Hermione stood up slowly on shaky legs. Her eyes never leaving the tall, imposing dark figure of Draco Malfoy standing right in front of her with the most unpleasing expression on his pale, pointed face.

Hermione felt, rather than saw the flash backs coming, struggling to regain her composure, it took everything in her not her not to glance towards his arm. Do anything, in order to find out the truth. But she knew it was too risky, too soon for that. He was still from one of the most powerful families that ever existed in the magical world, regardless of what his status was now. Seeing him up close just made the reality of it all crash right through her. Who knew what he was capable of now that he had turned. He looked just as hard and intimidating as he did the night she saw him outside Borgins. However, much much taller up close. His eyes were the same misty grey colour, swirling and full of emotion. It was odd how quickly he had changed, she wondered. The only comnfort she found in this moment, was the fact that he had no idea how much she really knew about him now.

Hermione shook her head and straightened up, forcing her hands into fists to stop herself from shaking.

"Sorry, I-"

"You." He stated simply, quietly.

"I didn't mean-"

"Watch it, _Mudblood._"

"How dare you say that word!"

Malfoy sneered, taken off guard by her interruption. "Watch how you _speak_-"

"Don't call me that. We're not children anymore, Draco. Times have changed."

Hermione was surprised at how level and strong her voice was, considering how much she was trembling. Malfoy however, stared at her with cold hardened eyes, looking her over from top to bottom, his lower lip trembling in rage.

"I'm not surprised you actually grew out of your childish ways, _Granger_, considering the two idiots you hang around with have barely grown into respectable, mature wizards."

Hermione crossed her arms, not missing a beat. "I could say the same about you, _Malfoy_, however, I'm afraid Crabb and Goyle are probably the only two friends you've got left."

He took a step towards her, his shoulders just below her forehead. "You'd be wise to stop talking about them like they don't exist. They've just finished beating up a first year to a bloody pulp as we speak."

"Really? Well, where are they now?" she taunted. "Arent they supposed to be protecting their precious _Syltherian_ _Prince _from dang-"

Before she knew it, Hermione felt her back pressed roughly against the wall behind her, Malfoy's face inches from hers. Her arms were pinned to her sides and his hands were fused tightly around her forearms. The back of her head throbbed from the sudden force. Malfoy looked furious, spit flying as he talked.

"Shut up you fucking _sla_-"

"Hurting a woman is hardly respectable behaviour," Hermione spat back, head held high. "_Get your hands off me_."

Debating with himself for a few seconds it seamed, he eventualy let her go with just as much force.

Hermione glanced quickly at his arm as she turned, but to her dissapointment his suit hadn't moved an inch throughout the encounter for her to see anything.

Letting the breath she had been holding slowly escape her shaking lips, she walked as fast as her legs could take her back to the safety of her compartment with Ron. Heavy with the realisation, that this was going to be harder than she thought.

…

Draco watched her with sharp eyes as she left the carriage, scoffing at her reply.

He felt his heart beat lodge in his throat as he walked back out, slamming the sliding door behind him. He was shaken up, he realised. Regardless, he wasn't going to stand in a train carriage thinking about a bloody _muggle born _for the rest of the trip. Especially one that could be suspecting him as a _Death Eater_…

Her indifference towards his usual taunts leaving him strangely unsettled all of a sudden. There was an air of confidence about her that he had not expected. She seamed stronger. More put together than the emotional and desperate, curly haired witch he was used to seeing running around the castle like an imbecile. Draco squashed the paranoia about their run in at Diagon Ally as he glanced back at her retreating figure one last time. He had barely thought of the incident up until now, he realised, watching her strut away from him. It was odd, to say the least. She had given no hints that she had recognised him that night also. But it was barely enough proof to let her off the hook. Draco wasn't stupid. He knew he had to act smart if he wanted to survive this year unscathed. The Granger girl may have been labelled one of the brightest witches of their age, but he swore on his life she was wearing the exact same jacket just now that she had been that night. They had locked eyes for barely a second, but he recognised what the person was wearing just now, alongside a bushy pony tail that disappeared quickly into the night. Coincidence? Probably. It may have been dark that night and he had been extremely preoccupied with the cabinet, but he wasn't blind. Three dark figures running away from him in the night, so obviously eaves dropping? Who else would it be apart from the _three Gryffindor knit wits_ who were always on his case? He thought of their private encounter just now as he sat back in his seat, and wondered if it was a type of tactic she was doing in order to get information out of him. It hadn't worked, but it sure as hell riled him up.

Now, he didn't know which scenario was more concerning at this point. _The Task... or Granger..._

"_Brilliant._" he muttered to himself, His head ached. After Diagon Ally and the run in with, "_Just some idiot children_," as he had explained to his mother at the time, he hadn't been too worried, but now he knew he had to be more vigilant. Draco wasn't certain what she had, or hadn't seen that night, but judging from the fact she had no qualms with starting a fight with him out of nowhere, he would be stupid not to presume she was already working on a plan.

.

.

.


End file.
